


Cupcakery

by tosca1390



Category: West Wing
Genre: Crack, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:36:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tosca1390/pseuds/tosca1390
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Sam said you were the only one to ask about baked goods in D.C.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cupcakery

*

As she did every morning since taking the Counsel job, Ainsley sat with her back to her office, eating the last of her cream cheese muffin and enjoying the view across the White House lawn. It was already 70-some degrees in Washington, and it was only 9:30 in the morning. She’d been wearing her hair up off of her neck for six days in a row now, and she missed the weight of it on her shoulders. She knew Sam missed it, too. He liked to play with the loose strands on their drive into the office, when they came in together.

There was a tentative knock on her office door, echoing thickly against the heavy oak. Turning from the bright sunny view, she popped the last of her muffin in her mouth and glanced at her door.

“Bram, right?” He was very tall and dark, and apparently thought himself a newer model of Sam. He was also the office gossip, along with that speechwriter Otto. She wasn’t sure she liked him yet, but it had only been a year. And a half.

“Yes, ma’am.” He lingered at the door.

“What can I help you with?” she asked briskly, brushing the crumbs from her fingers and into the discreet trash can under her desk. Sam had gotten it specifically for her food-related endeavors in the office, after receiving one too many briefing memos with cookie crumbs.

“I’d like some advice, actually.”

Oh lord. “Legal? Because we don’t share attorney-client privilege, as a reminder. Why no one seems to understand that, I’ll never figure out.” She murmured the last bit under her breath.

Bram blinked, his smooth brow furrowing. “Legal? No, no, no. No. Definitely not,” he said quickly. “I mean, there _was_ this one thing with a girl during our stopover in Greendale last month, but--”

She gave him a brief once-over. This guy might be pretty, but he wasn’t anywhere close to Sam yet. Even when he bumbled, Sam was nearly always endearing. “Bram. I don’t need to hear about it, unless it’s of legal trouble to this government,” she said swiftly.

“I’m seeing this girl, a journalist who’s going to graduate school at Georgetown. She loves baked goods, and I want a good place to take her,” he blurted out, the tops of his cheeks reddening.

Ainsley looked at him for a long moment before smiling slowly. “You need my help with picking particular places, then?”

He nodded, hands stuffed in his pants pockets. The man could wear a suit, that was for sure. He had that part of Sam’s bravado going for him. “I can usually handle my dating life on my own, and pretty well at that, but this girl--well, she’s different.”

“Immune to your supposed charms?” she asked dryly.

Blinking, he moved deeper into the office, stopping at one of the guest chairs and leaning on the back. “Something like that.”

“And why come to me?” Not that she didn’t enjoy it when men had to ask her for help; it was one of those things she had picked up at Smith, instead of liberalism and bisexuality.

“Sam said you were the only one to ask about baked goods in D.C.”

Point for Sam. She’d think about pulling out the red lacy bra later tonight. “When’s your lunch, Bram?”

After a pause, he raised a brow. “One o’clock. Why?”

“Because we’re going on a field trip. Meet me at the East Entrance at one,” she said before turning her attention to the paperwork and files on her desk.

*

Ainsley waited at the sign-in desk at just a little before one,sighing in the cool air conditioning.

“Little hot to be going out for lunch, isn’t it Ms. Hayes?” Stanley the security guard asked with a friendly smile.

“Indeed it is. But this is not lunch; it’s a mercy mission,” she said lightly, smoothing back the stray flyaways from her ponytail.

“Ainsley!”

She looked to the left and couldn’t help but smile. Sam, with Bram trailing behind him, strode down the hall, briefcase in hand. “Hello, Sam. What a pleasant surprise.”

“It’s a slow day. I thought I might come along for the fun,” he said, stopping just close enough to her that she could smell his aftershave. His fingers grazed her hip, catching on the smooth fabric of her skirt.

“Wonderful. You can buy me a cupcake,” she said, nodding to Bram. “Ready?”

Bram nodded, looking slightly cowed. She imagined he didn’t hang out in social situations with Sam all that often. This was going to be a fun hour or two.

“Just one cupcake? Your self-control is admirable,” Sam said as they bid farewell to Stanley and exited into the thick Washington air.

She pinched him at the elbow for that.

*

“This is DC Cupcakes,” Ainsley said, looking up at Bram.

Bram, the poor fellow, looked a little shell-shocked. Or perhaps that was the heat. Ainsley couldn’t be certain. “Wow. Is it always busy like this?” he asked, peering at the line traveling at least ten people out the front door.

“Yes,” Sam muttered. “And then you wait an hour for a cupcake.”

“The _best_ cupcakes. I did not hear you complaining, did I?” she said primly.

Sam smiled at her sheepishly. He looked good in the leafy deep greenness surrounding them. The foliage was one of the only good things about D.C. in this kind of weather. Everything was lush and welcoming, and for a few moments at a time, it was possible to put the humidity and the scorching sun from mind.

“Well, no time like the present,” she said briskly. “Into line we go.”

“Is she always so insistent?” Bram murmured to Sam behind her back.

“Sometimes. Mostly around baked goods. But Chinese food can put her into a fit as well,” Sam muttered back.

She cleared her throat and shot them both a look. “Really, now. It’ll be worth it. _You_ know that,” she said, touching Sam lightly on the forearm.

“But it’s hot,” Bram said, whining just slightly.

Rolling her eyes, she settled into line and propped a hand on her hip with a sigh. “So what’s her name?” she asked, glancing back at Bram.

“Who?”

“This girl that you’re trying to impress.”

“Rory. Rory Gilmore,” he said. Something softened in his face around the eyes as the name rolled off his tongue.

“Rory Gilmore? The one who wrote that op-ed piece in the Times last month about the First Lady’s agenda?” Sam interjected.

Nodding, Bram grinned. “The one and the same.”

Sam smirked. “She’s dating _you_?”

Bram scowled, which did nothing to affect the attractiveness of his face. Really, he should have been a model, Ainsley thought appreciatively. “Stop it, Sam. How did you meet, Bram?”

“On the Mall. We ran into each other, literally,” he said, smiling slightly. “I spilled her coffee, so I bought her another one, and we got to talking.”

Sam’s hand had made its way to the small of her back as they inched forward in line. “Well, that’s just precious.”

She smiled. “It’s sweet that you’re going to all this effort, Bram. She’ll appreciate it.”

Passing a hand through his hair, Bram sighed. “Hope so. She’s... well, she’s a lot smarter than I am. I can tell.”

“No, really?” Sam mumbled, and earned an elbow to the ribs.

Luckily, Bram didn’t seem to notice. “Yeah. It’s intimidating. But I really like her. She’s the faster talker I’ve ever been around, and that includes Josh.”

Sam snorted, and Ainsley couldn’t help but laugh. A breeze shifted between the trees, picking up the hem of her light summer suit. She breathed out easily, her fingers curling into one of Sam’s belt loops. “I promise you, Bram, if she really likes you, these cupcakes will seal the deal.”

Once they made it inside the bakery, Bram spent twelve minutes perusing the selections before settling on a chocolate-chocolate-chocolate cupcake (“She really likes chocolate,” he said sheepishly). Sam bought her not one, but three cupcakes; one red velvet, one chocolate with raspberry filling, and one vanilla with chocolate buttercream.

She ate two of the three by the time they got back to the White House.

*

A few days after their field trip to DC Cupcakes, she found herself in the bullpen, searching out Bram’s office. It was rare that Ainsley came up to the West Wing without an appointment with the President or a lunch date with Sam. However, since she hadn’t heard anything helpful from Sam concerning Bram and his adventures with Rory Gilmore in cupcakes, she decided to take decisive action.

She still found it slightly bizarre to be back in the White House without Leo, or C.J., and to not to have Donna on this side of the building. The faces were still unfamiliar, and the pace was slower, even with Josh at the helm. But, as she walked past the turn that would take her to Sam’s office, she thought this might be better.

Through the glass wall, she saw Bram before he saw her. He was sitting with his feet kicked up on the edge of his desk, eyes fixed on the ceiling, a vague smile curving his mouth. He certainly didn’t look _upset_ , she noted as she stood in his doorway and rapped her knuckles on the frame. “Hello, Bram.”

He nearly jumped out of his seat, feet clattering to the floor and his hands slamming on his desktop. “Ms. Hayes! Hello,” he said after a moment.

She stepped into his office, smoothing a hand over her shirt. “I wanted to inquire after your results with Rory and the cupcakes.”

“Oh! Yeah, she... she loved them,” he said with a wide grin. “Can’t thank you enough for your help.”

Smiling, she nodded. “I’m glad to hear it. It was no problem at all,” she said before turning and moving swiftly out of his office. Her good deeds for the week were complete; perhaps she could convince Sam to leave the office early and go for more cupcakes. The chocolate and raspberry one had been haunting her dreams.

*


End file.
